


tomorrow

by experimentaldragonfire



Series: tomorrow [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora's Martyr Complex, F/F, Introspection, also posted on Tumblr, basically a bunch of thoughts on season 5 except in fanfic format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/experimentaldragonfire/pseuds/experimentaldragonfire
Summary: Adora couldn't say she'd anticipated lifeafterthe war's end.(a reflection on a self-sacrificing protagonist and her inability to see past the present to envision herself in the future)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: tomorrow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808905
Comments: 18
Kudos: 129





	tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for lyric prompts on tumblr to write something short, and this ended up Significantly Longer than anticipated, so I'm putting it here. 
> 
> Many thanks to [theunpopulargoat](https://theunpopulargoat.tumblr.com), who said:
>
>> "You should do catra/adora, this lyric: "But you never trusted tomorrow, Yeah, baby is that anyway to live your life?" It's from the song [Tomorrow by Shakey Graves](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HGL59oXCNWk)" 

Adora couldn’t say she’d anticipated life _after_ the war’s end.

Having been brought up in the Horde, conditioned from childhood to play her part as a piece of the greater conflict, she had never really considered that there _could_ be an “after.” She supposed that, even when she had still been assured that a Horde victory would bring peace to Etheria, she had never quite thought what that might have looked like.

And then, of course, she had discovered a magical sword and a destiny in the middle of the Whispering Woods, and it seemed like her whole life would revolve around those two things--the same endless conflict, from the other side, and perhaps the vague promise of something after, something that looked like the party she had experienced in Thaymoor, the late-night sleepovers with Glimmer and Bow, the warm sands of Mystacor beneath her feet.

_The warm feeling of Catra curled up at the foot of her bed, purring softly in her sleep_ , her traitorous mind had supplied, and Adora pushed the thought aside with as much determination as she could muster. 

Even when, much later on, she had shattered the sword, decided to take control over her own destiny for once, Adora hadn’t been thinking about her place in the nebulous future that her friends were convinced they’d reach. Faced with an intergalactic threat, a new enemy from space, she wasn’t entirely sure she’d even make it through to see the end of the conflict.

(She thought, secretly, that she might even deserve it)

It all had come to a head in the depths of Mystacor, before the Crystal of Arxia, when Shadow Weaver had revealed the true nature of the failsafe under Catra’s interrogation, Adora’s wrist trapped within Catra’s grasp as the reality sank in: whoever received the code would also receive a death sentence. She didn’t put much stock in the sorceress’ claim that She-Ra might survive the outpouring of magical energy--it seemed too much like a placation, a flimsy hope, and rang hollow when Adora had difficulty summoning the sword even under the best of circumstances.

She understood, then, that this must be her destiny--to live for the war, to die ending the war, to be nothing more than the vessel for others’ hopes and dreams.

_What do_ you _want, Adora? Why does it always have to be_ you _?_ rings in her ears even as she tries desperately to push down the guilt, the longing, the tightness in her throat that threatens to leave her gasping for breath. Adora isn’t the one who matters, not in this--she is destined to leave behind the legacy of She-Ra, savior of Etheria, and not of Adora, the Horde cadet, who poked fun at her friends and solved her problems by punching them, who thought horses were the most majestic creature she’d ever seen and who made a promise, long, long ago, that she’d watch out for her first friend in the world, no matter what.

Even if, she thinks, that means that she’ll never see her smile again. If someone has to die for the cause, to defeat Horde Prime, to save all of Etheria--at least it’ll be her, and not Catra, or Bow, or Glimmer. It _can’t_ be any of them, because they’re infinitely more precious than she is.

But everything goes wrong, and she’s bleeding, she’s not going to make it, and Catra’s there and refusing to leave, even when Adora tells her to run, to get as far away as possible, and when Catra insists on staying with her she doesn’t have the heart to make her go.

(She’s dying, now, and maybe she’s allowed to be a tiny bit selfish)

Adora watches everything fade away, feels the sensation leaving her body, and the vision of the idyllic future takes her entirely by surprise.

In that moment, she realizes that it’s no use just fighting for the present. The dreams of a tomorrow where there is no more conflict, no more fighting, no more impossible choices to make, are perhaps the key to pushing through this whole ordeal.

(And when Catra breaks through her spiral into the abyss, yells _I love you_ into the ether, when Adora blinks her eyes open and looks into her face and realizes with her whole being that _I love you, too_ , she lets that vision of tomorrow take root inside her chest, burrow deep into her heart where the failsafe code is etched, and it’s _that_ that gives her strength when their lips meet and everything explodes into light)

Afterwards, staring out at the newly-restored wilderness of the planet, Catra beside her and Bow and Glimmer smiling behind them, Adora thinks about tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, and lets herself plan out their entire future.

Because, finally, she knows that she’ll be there for it.


End file.
